To Build a Heaven
by the shadow proves the sunshine
Summary: Edmund has always given all he could to his brother when he sensed the need. . . always. One-shot.


**To Build a Heaven**

**Summary: **Edmund has always given all he could to his brother when he sensed the need. One-shot.

**Author's Note**: Warnings: I took some creative license with this story, mainly about the train wreck that takes Peter and Edmund's life as well as the end of Prince Caspian. I would not consider it necessarily AU, but it's also not letter-by-letter canon. The title comes from the William Blake quote woven throughout the story.

_Love seeketh not itself to please_

_Nor for itself hath any care_

_-William Blake-_

I glanced down in shock at my brother's unconscious form.

"Lucy!" I cried, hoping she was within ear-shot, "Your cordial! Quick, Lu!"

I saw a blur out of the corner of my eye that I knew was Lucy, racing against time to save Peter. He had come back from yet another journey, and as usual, he was knocking on the doors to the afterlife. By some miracle, he managed to make it almost to the door of Cair Paravel before collapsing, completely spent. He looked. . . terrible. There was no other way to describe him. He had obviously run into trouble on his journey. He had lost so much weight it was no struggle for me to carry him. I carried him inside and laid him across the nearest spare bed I could find. His forehead was fevered-hot to the touch. Several servants had already noticed my brother's condition and were busy preparing wet clothes and taking care of the medical worries. I was grateful for this, as it allowed me to focus all my attention solely on Peter.

Peter was mere minutes away from death, and I knew it. I prayed that my sister's steps were quick. I knew if something were to happen to Peter, she would blame herself for not getting the cordial to him in time.

Suddenly, Lucy ran in the room, forgoing all usual formalities. Quickly stepping aside, I allowed my sister the access she needed. She poured the red liquid into Peter's mouth. Almost immediately, his fevered trembling stopped. Lucy and Susan, who had just entered the room, both gave audible sighs of relief. He didn't wake up immediately, but it was evident Lucy's cordial had done its job.

Slowly, the servants with all their emergency equipment started to clear out of the room until it was only our family left.

"He looks so thin," Susan commented with concern. In my heart, I mirrored her anxiety, but I knew now was the time to comfort.

"Don't worry, Su. A few days and I'm sure our chefs will have him back to where he was before." I assured as I embraced her. Lucy pulled close to me and I drew her in as well.

I'm not sure how long we stayed like that, but eventually Lucy detangled herself from me. She made some excuse to leave and Susan followed suit. I smiled at them, knowing the reason they did so was to allow me some time with my only brother.

I rested my hand on Peter's forehead. I had come so close to losing him, and more than just this time. My brother had a knack for finding danger.

Deeming it safe enough, I gently picked up Peter and began the journey to his room. I knew he would be more comfortable if he woke up in a familiar place. His weight loss was so evident that he was no burden to carry up two flights of stairs, and that worried me.

I set Peter gently down amidst the sea of blankets on his bed. I pulled up his desk chair beside his bed, content to simply sit there and keep vigil over my brother.

"Ed?" Peter's voice was raspy and hoarse, but to my ears, there was no better sound. As he spoke my name, I was drawn out of my deep thoughts and back to his beside.

"Yes?" I asked, moving slightly closer.

"Are you. . . all right?"

I blinked. I shouldn't have been surprised, but I always was amazed at the extent of Peter's selflessness. How very like him, to ask if I was all right after he had just had a brush with death! I tried, but I couldn't hold back the few tears that came to my eyes.

"Sorry." He mumbled and smiled weakly, noticing the effect his simple question had on me.

I shook my head. I stood up from my chair and sat on the edge of Peter's bed.

"You know, Peter Pevensie, sometimes you're simply unbelievable," I stated, and was grateful to see a smile flutter across his face, "Two hours ago, you were moments away from death, and you ask if I'm all right?"

He shrugged and gave a small laugh. "What are big brothers for?"

I hit him on the head with a pillow, which just caused him to laugh harder and retaliate. Soon the room was in chaos. I thought about how Susan would react if she saw the state of Peter's bedroom and the thought caused me to smirk. My smile turned much softer, however, when I noticed my older brother giving me a lingering glance. I could see he was trying to search me, trying to find out if I truly was all right. Peter seemed incapable of focusing his attention on himself.

I knew he wouldn't believe me when I told him I was fine, so I crawled around the chaos of busted pillows and tussled blankets and placed myself by Peter's side, giving all I had to him.

----

_But for another gives its ease_

_-William Blake-_

Peter's breath was shaky, though he hid it well. He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead and I let him lead the way. I knew now, surrounded by schoolboys who looked the same age as Peter and I but in reality were so much younger, was not the time to make my brother open his heart and mind. There would be time for that when he was ready.

Without thinking of where I was going I followed Peter down the long, crowded hallway. We had returned from our second time in Narnia not two hours ago and I was still adjusting to the idea of being back in England.

Peter stopped suddenly which caused me to bump into him. He turned back and gave me a sad smile but was still unusually quiet. He entered the room and closed the door behind him, and I knew it was not out of spite. He just needed some time alone.

I entered my room, which was fortunately right across the hall from Peter's. Even though we were in different age levels and the boys of a common grade usually stayed on the same hall, an exception had been made for Peter and me. After several long conversations with the headmaster, our mother had convinced him that due to frequent nightmares as well as our close nature, it would be beneficial to everyone if we were allowed to room next to each other. I saw a group of boys Peter's age whispering-clearly about me- as I drug my suitcase in behind me, but I paid them no heed.

The groups of boys that clung together in the hallways slowly dispersed as we all began to unpack our things. As I reached the bottom of my suitcase, my hands traced the feel of something papery and slightly wrinkled. Puzzled, I pulled the object in question out.

It was a picture of Aslan that Lucy had sketched. Immediately, I felt guilty about forgetting it and I began to smooth out the corners that had accidently been folded. Lucy had a passion for drawing, and she had made several illustrations of our Narnia days. At first, the things she had drawn had been very basic, though well-done, but in the month before we had gone back she started to get more courageous. She had drawn both each of us a picture of Aslan. We had all been astounded at her jump in skill. Aslan's eyes, in each picture, were so detailed that they each told a different story.

In the version she had given to Peter, Aslan's eyes were strong and inspiring. For Susan, Aslan looked on with gentle, calm, and happy eyes. In the picture I had, Aslan seemed positively understanding and encouraging. In the version Lucy had painted for herself, Aslan was joyful. It was evident that my younger sister understood us all very well and had painted the picture of Aslan we all remembered best personally.

I smoothed the paper the picture had been done on once last time and took a deep breath. The sun was just beginning to set behind the clouds and I knew that for my brother, the shock would be waning already. I wasn't sure if I was ready to face the truths we had encountered in Narnia so few hours ago, but for my brother I would do that and more.

Picture in hand, I walked to Peter's door and knocked. Despite the fact there were only about five steps between the two rooms, the walk seemed long. My gentle taps gathered no response so they became slightly more powerful.

"Come in, Ed." Peter's voice sounded flat. I glanced down at my feet, trying to compose myself for my brother. This conversation would not be easy, and I was well aware of that fact.

I entered the room, softly closing the door behind me. Peter's eyes were red and dry and his voice seemed weak. It was clear he had been crying, and for awhile if the amount of tissues in the bin was any indication.

Peter was sitting in the only chair in the room, leaning back against the wooden desk frame and facing me. He didn't speak or move. With the picture of Aslan still in my hand, I made my way around the rather small room and sat on the edge of Peter's bed. I placed my free hand on his shoulder and he leaned into my touch.

Content just to be giving to my brother, I stayed silent. I knew Peter would speak when he was ready. I rested my head on top of Peter's, which was still on top of my hand.

It was several minutes later when Peter finally stirred.

"I'm not going back."He stated softly. He was still adjusting to the idea.

"I know."

"And you are."

I didn't speak, afraid of tormenting my brother more than he already was. When it became clear that he wasn't going to speak again, however, I gathered the courage to say something more than two words and prayed to Aslan it would have the desire effect.

"It won't be the same." I replied.

Peter didn't reply to my remark, but slowly started getting closer to the real issue.

"I suppose," He began slowly, "That I almost feel abandoned."

For the first time since I had entered the room, he actually looked me in the eyes, and I saw all the words he was trying to say but couldn't find a way. He felt abandoned by Aslan, but knew that he wasn't. He felt guilty for doubting, but part of him felt as if he had a right to do so. To put it simply, Peter was torn.

I spoke the words I knew Peter believed in his heart, "You haven't been, Peter. Not by Narnia, not by Aslan."

I reached for the picture of Aslan Lucy had drawn for me and sat it down in front of Peter. He stared at it, absorbing every line Lucy had drawn.

"You haven't been abandoned Peter." I stated again, firmer, and when Peter's piercing gaze caught my own, I saw that he truly believed that as well.

The tears flowed freely from his blue eyes, but they were not the same tears as before. The tears of anguish were gone, replaced with a deeper, calmer, kind of cry. There were still traces of despair etched on Peter's face, but it was tempered with hope and faith.

With Peter's head resting on my shoulder, I stayed for hours in Peter's room. And when he finally released all emotion, he slowly tilted his head up, looked me straight in the eye, and I knew he would be all right, even if he didn't.

--

_And builds a heaven in Hell's despair._

_-William Blake-_

"Ed?"

"Edmund?"

"Ed!"

I felt a hand grabbed my shoulder. Snapping out of my reverie, I turned to face Peter, a bemused expression on his face.

"Are you all right, Ed? I've been calling your name for five minutes."

I was dragged by Peter out of my room and down the stairs, which I didn't resist because not having to think about where I was going allowed my mind to wander. I let it travel as pleased all the while trying to keep my mind off what I had in my pockets.

"Do you have the rings?" My older brother asked, bringing up the objects I was trying desperately to forget. The rings were necessary to allow Eustace and Jill back to Narnia, but as soon as Peter and I dug them up we found there was another factor we hadn't been considering- the pull and weight the rings had on us. How each of us would love to get back to Narnia, and even more if we felt as if we were needed! However, Aslan had told both Peter and me that we were not to go back to Narnia, and both of us knew we must not use the rings. The decision of who was to hold the rings was split- Peter thought I would be able to better resist the temptation of the rings in my pocket, while I thought the same of him. Eventually, we decided to take turns. Peter had kept the rings up until this point, and now I would carry them until we handed them to Eustace and Jill.

Peter was quiet all the way until we were parked and inside the train station. I knew he was concentrating on the task at hand. I didn't say anything as we stood waiting for the train to come in, just let my hand rest on Peter's shoulder as a gesture of comfort to him. The rings in my pocket may have been wearing me down, but I pushed that aside to comfort Peter. I knew he felt guilty for not being able to help Narnia himself, but we both knew that it was not his battle to fight.

"I say," I started commenting as the train started coming in rather quickly, "It's going around the bend too fast."

Peter turned to me, his mouth open, ready to ask how I could tell, but he never got the chance.

----

As soon as I came-to, I wished I hadn't. I blinked in rapidly, trying to remember what had happened. The train. . . it had derailed. There had been an accident. And I was in the middle of it. Part of me knew I should feel more than the numbness that seemed to dull my mind, but it was a strange sensation and I couldn't exactly help it.

I forced my eyes to open, afraid of what I would find. The world was a wreck. There were bodies strewn everywhere. It was chaos. I saw a few survivors pull themselves away from the carnage and stand to the side, taking in what had just happen, while people ran to and fro trying to help those still alive and treat with respect those who weren't. I had been close to death so many times that I knew in a few minutes, I would not be among those still standing.

I glanced down to look at myself. My clothes were covered in blood and my shirt was torn in multiple areas. Blood was in my hair, on my skin, on my clothes. I knew some of it was mine as my leg was bleeding profusely. Forcing myself to sit up enough to look at it, I realized it must have been punctured by a piece of flying metal. There were still shards stuck to my skin. I could tell from the way my ragged breathing was coming out that I had at least one, if not more, broken ribs and probably several internal injuries as well. It was then that it struck me. I would not survive for more than a few minutes no matter how much attention I recieved, and I knew it was a miracle that my mind, while a bit muddled, was still coherent enough to realize what had happened.

I tried to control my thoughts as much as possible, but I was so near unconsciousness it was rather difficult. I saw Peter's body near mine and could hear him still breathing. Forcing my body to keep going just a bit longer, I crawled and squeezed my way over to Peter. As I drew closer, I saw that on the other side of Peter's body was a group of bodies and in a moment of sickening realization, I recognized Eustace's face.

I shut my eyes quickly, not letting myself glance that way. I knew somewhere in that wreck was my sister and I did not want my last memory of her on this earth to be her shattered body.

"Pe. . . ter." I rasped. Even whispering took more strength than I had, but if these were my last minutes on the earth, I would spend them giving everything to my brother.

Peter opened one eye and tried his best to smile. We both knew we weren't getting out of this alive, but we would journey into Aslan's country as we always had- together. In an effort that took all he had, Peter raised one arm and pulled me with all his remaining strength in an embrace. As soon as his strength fled, I saw a peaceful smile flutter across his face and he left.

Still embracing my brother's cold body, I spent my last few minutes doing what I always did, what I always wanted to do: giving everything I had to my brother. . . down to my very last breath.


End file.
